I'll Follow You
by wonderwall91
Summary: For as long as Sam could remember he knew that he loved the idea of being in love. When he finds what he is searching for, however, it turns out that things don't ever play out like they do in the movies. He just wants a girl that can love him back completely. Was that really too much to ask for?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! To the readers that have come from my other Evanberry/Samchel story: this is the story I mentioned previously that I would be posting. It's one that I posted on this website about three years ago; however, I wanted to freshen it up and re-do it. I hope that you all enjoy it. I'll be posting a new chapter to Through My Prayers soonish-I hope!**

**Reviews are appreciated! Let me know if you're interested in chapter 2. If you don't like it then I won't make you read anymore of it! Ha. Have a good one, readers! :)**

* * *

He was extra-cautious to not stretch the moment his eyelids fluttered awake. He knew that any sudden movement might cause the girl in his arms to wake up. He was entirely too comfortable simply holding her to want to wake her. Brown locks immediately clouded his vision. The brunette's head was resting lightly on his bare chest, her arms draped across his abdomen. He felt happiness rush through his veins at the prospect of being _the _guy that was getting to hold her. Their moments together, although amazing, were few and far between causing him to truly treasure the time they had alone.

"Good morning," her husky voice, laced with sleep, whispered before pressing a chaste kiss to the skin below his jaw. He ignored the rush of sadness he felt knowing that their time together was about to end. Instead of bringing down the atmosphere he growled playfully before pecking the top of her head. "Did you sleep well?"

"Always do when I'm holding you, babe," he responded honestly. The brunette finally pulled out of his arms and sat back on the bed to look at Sam with sad eyes. He had upset her already. It wasn't that he meant to. He was just being honest with her. "I wish we could fall asleep together every single night," he whispered sadly before reaching out to trace the line of her jaw. He had placed an uncountable number of kisses along that perfect jaw. Rachel sighed before pulling away, taking the sheet with her. He resisted the urge to cover himself up, knowing that it was just Rachel-the girl who loved him despite his flaws-the girl who had seen him naked plenty of times.

"You know that I'm doing the best I can, Samuel," Rachel called out to him. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. They had, on more than one occasion, had that exact conversation. It only led to him feeling defeated and heartbroken while Rachel cried. He'd rather have his arm cut off than have to be the cause of Rachel's tears.

"Last night though-that was awesome, right?" He asked, hoping that he didn't sound too incredibly insecure. After dating several girls and being cheated on Every. Single. Time. He sometimes felt badly about himself and worried that he didn't live up to Rachel's standards. Sometimes he just wanted reassurance that the girl he was head over heels in love with still felt the same about him. "You had a good time?" The brunette turned around with a smirk before making her way back over to the bed.

"A very good time," she whispered before straddling his waist and connecting their lips. He ignored the fact that he probably had morning breath and deepened the kiss, moaning when tongue met tongue. Almost immediately the kiss slowed down and turned into something else. For Rachel it was her way of showing Sam that she was on the same playing field as he. Sam pulled away sheepishly when he felt a stirring in his nether regions and was certain his arousal was going to begin showing. "We have time for another round," Rachel slyly whispered upon realizing why Sam had abruptly ended the kiss. A cell phone ringing brought Sam out of his Rachel-induced high. He reached for the girl's iPhone before looking at the missed call.

"I guess we don't," Sam whispered before handing the phone to Rachel. "I'm going to take a shower," he added with finality, ignoring the pained look on her face. He didn't stick around to see her look at her cell phone with a broken expression.

He made sure that he locked the door behind him so that Rachel would know that he wasn't in the mood for conserving water. If anything he thought that the shower was a pretty manly place cry. It wasn't like crying in the middle of the streets where everyone who passed by would think he was insane and call the cops. He could just be alone with shampoo and a toilet bowl. It was everything a guy needed around when he was crying. And he kind of felt like crying.

He ignored the stupid inner monologue his brain was having and instead turned the shower on, letting the water get scalding before stepping inside. The hot water eased some of the tension out of his muscles and relaxed him, somewhat sending all of his worries away. He grabbed the small bar of soap the hotel had provided and lathered himself down, scrubbing away all remnants of Rachel. He then moved on to his hair He reached for the miniature shampoo bottle and gave it a quick sniff, grimacing at the smell. He had yet to find a hotel that provided shampoo that didn't smell like old people. He proceeded to wash his hair anyway all while deciding that a haircut was in order. He hadn't meant to grow his hair out so long but it had happened.

Rachel had yet to comment on it. She probably didn't even notice.

He let his head rest against the shower wall upon thinking of Rachel. How had everything gotten so messed up?

He brushed the metaphorical chip from his shoulder away and turned the water. He grabbed the towel from the sink and wrapped it around his waist before looking into the fogged mirror. "It'll work itself out, Dude," he told the blobbed reflection of himself.

He opened the bathroom door and made his way back into the room to find Rachel seated on the bed, legs crossed and eyes puffy. "What's wrong?" He asked, voice steady to mask the concern he truly felt. "Are you okay?" Upon seeing that she was ignoring him he crouched in front of her, holding the towel with one hand and sighed. "Rachel, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she snapped before pushing Sam out of the way and walking over to the window on the opposite side of the room. He chuckled, clearly able to tell that she was upset but made the decision to drop the subject. He made his way over to his pile of clothes that had been strewn about the room in the night's haste. He pulled his frayed jeans on before grabbing the flannel shirt and sliding it on. "I'm sorry that this is hard for you, Sam," Rachel explained from the bed. He chose not to comment. "What do you want me to do?"

"You know what I want you to do," he replied before turning around slowly. He made sure to avoid all eye contact with the petite girl and instead looked for his shoes. "Do you know where my hoes are?" He was met with silence.

He knew he was acting immature, but he was only 23. That kind of means he could still act childish sometimes. Well, he thought it made sense anyway.

"I can't do that yet, Sam." He knew that. She always said that. "You told me that you understood." He sighed before looking at the girl.

"I do understand, Rachel. I knew what I was getting into when things started." Rachel nodded. "It still hurts me though." He spotted his shoes lying under the top Rachel had been wearing the day before. He shook away the images of the things they had done the previous night away and instead began to ease his shoes on.

"Sam, please don't go yet. We never spend any time together. I don't have to be anywhere until noon. We could get breakfast together." Sam scoffed. It was one thing for Rachel to break his heart. It was another to rub it in his face while the wound was healing.

"You mean we could be served breakfast by the damn hotel people," he corrected. Rachel bit her lip. "I need to go anyway. I think I'm going to get a hair appointment or something." Rachel looked him over.

"Your hair really is long," she agreed. "I like it though." He knew she hadn't noticed his hair length. How could she notice anything when all she was worried about was keeping up appearances? "Will you call me later, Sam?" She questioned upon realizing that he wasn't going to stay with her. He was ready to say no, even though spending time away from her was going to be the death of him. He really was going to tell her that she needed to focus on other things.

But that didn't work out.

"Yeah, I'll call you." He walked over to her and simply looked her over She was truly beautiful. He had always been amazed by the beauty that she radiated. He felt pride swell within him at the fact that Rachel was his, somewhat anyway. He ran his fingers over her face and then down her neck while admiring the marks he left on her body. Sam was aware that it was against the rules to leave the purple bruises on her, but sometimes she got a little carried away. "I do love you, Rachel," he whispered before pressing his lips against hers lightly. He pulled away before she was able to deepen the kiss. "I don't think I'll ever love anyone as much as I love you."

"Sam," she whispered as a lone tear fell down her face. He kissed the tear away before pressing various kisses against her face and finally meeting her lips. "I. Love. _You._" Rachel whispered in between kisses. He grinned before reluctantly pulling away and making his way towards the door.

"Tell your husband that his piano is ready at the shop," he stated while leaning his head against the door. Before Rachel could reply he was out the door and walking down the hallway. He was going back to the real world. The world where he was just the guy who worked at a hole-in-the-wall music store. The world where he was Rachel's best friend. The world where Rachel St. James was one half of a powerful Broadway couple.


	2. Chapter 2

**As always, I appreciate every single last reader. I appreciate any feedback, but I hope you enjoy. **

Sam didn't consider himself to be much of an outdoorsy person, but there was just something about breathing in fresh air that helped him. He thought that by walking back to his apartment a chance to clear his mind would be given to him. He was entirely too full of the emotions swirling deep within him, all of them threatening to spill over to the surface at any given time. Fifteen minutes away from the broken down building he called home, a loud boom of thunder clapped overhead. Within minutes of the warning from the skies above a rain, so chilling it pierced his skin, fell angrily. He thought it was kind of ironic; his day had been going downhill since Rachel had received her phone call from Jesse. He figured the rain was kind of symbolic or something. He probably deserved the downpour on him for what he was helping Rachel to do her husband.

Upon reaching his apartment building he flew inside to escape the downpour of the rain and hopefully his guilt. He trudged up the first two flights of stairs before coming to a halt outside of his door. He pulled the lone keychain out of his pocket and turned the lock before entering the small flat. He angrily dropped his keys and cell phone onto the small island that served as his breakfast table before walking a few mere feet into his bedroom/bathroom/everything because he was too poor to afford an apartment that actually had more than one room. He peeled the soaking wet clothes off his body before changing into warm pajamas and crashing onto the bed.

He kind of prayed that he wouldn't wake up.

* * *

Four hours later he heard a loud noise coming from the other side of the room. His drowsy eyes opened, and once coherent thoughts were formed he realized it was his cell phone. With a grunt he pulled himself out of the bed and lumbered over to the kitchen to grab his phone. "Someone seems popular," he mumbled upon seeing the three missed calls and five text messages.

**Rach: **You didn't call me.  
11:43  
**Rach: **Are you mad? I have a break; do I need to come by?  
12:01  
**Rach: **Sam, please say something…Last night was incredible; don't ruin it.  
12:08  
**Lopezzz: **Trouty Mouth, I wants some food. We should go to Puckerman's gig later 2nite so we can score free drinks…and chicks ;)  
12:32  
**Rach: **Okay. I'm coming over.  
12:42.

With a frantic yelp he looked at his watch. _1:05._He hoped that Rachel decided against her initial thoughts. He could text her back and just tell her he was asleep and that would solve it all. He didn't want to text her back though. He was hurting, and though he knew it wasn't fair of him to blame her, a part of him wanted to-and did.

**Me:** Sounds like a plan! Meet me there? Or pick u up?  
1:08

A lone knock on his door caused him to drop his phone. The solo knock then turned into a series of beating and pounding on his door. He chuckled at the brunette's impatience and jogged over, not wanting to have to pay his landlord for damage to the door.

He pulled the door open and took her disheveled appearance. Her hair was a mess. He still hadn't really figured out girls, but he knew that her hair was looking kind of whacked up. She was slightly panting and flushed. He noticed that she wasn't looking directly at him, more at his chest. He looked down to realize he still had on a pair of boxers and nothing else. "Sorry," he mumbled, "I just woke up." Her face lit up.

"So you weren't ignoring me," she stated, though it came out as more of a question than anything. He sighed before pulling her inside the apartment. He assumed there was no pointing in telling Rachel that he had gone to sleep to purposely evade all things related to the real world.

"Come in, you don't want anyone to see you over here," he whispered before shutting the door behind her. The jab was meant to hurt Rachel; however, it tore at his chest all the same. He guessed it was what he got for falling in love with Broadway's most talented woman. He was proud of her; he always had been, but it sucked that there was always someone on the street that knew her. They could never just…be.

Not that they could have even if she weren't famous. Her husband was just as famous as she. If for some odd reason someone didn't recognize her for her own fame they recognized her as Rachel St. James, or Jesse St. James' wife.

"Where are you at?" Rachel's voice was soft and gentle, almost like she was afraid of spooking him. Maybe she was. Her hands were delicately touching his face, almost as though she were inspecting bruises. Maybe they were.

"Nowhere, just thinking," he replied and then forced a smile. Rachel sighed. He forgot that she could read him like a book. "Rachel, you don't want to hear what I have to say so let's just not talk about it, okay?" She gave him a watery smile before sitting down on the couch, picking up his cell phone in the process. He slowly made his way over to the brunette before easing himself down beside her.

"We need to be mature adults, Sam. Be honest with me, please," she pleaded. He ran a hand through his locks before nodding to himself.

"Fine, you want honest? I can give you that. I'm_ dying_ here, Rach. I love you so much that it hurts. I can't go anywhere without seeing your face in a magazine or hearing some little girl with her mom in our shop talking about wanting to be just like you when they grow up. I want to be able to smile and tell them that you're my girlfriend, and that you are the most amazing thing in the world."

"Sam," Rachel interrupted. He could tell from the sound of her voice that she was crying, but he wasn't going to let that stop him from continuing his rant.

"But I can't," he finished. His voice cracked and he found himself crying silently along with her. "You know, it isn't fair that I'm so crazy about you. I want to be able to buy you flowers before your shows, and be waiting for you when they are done with a kiss. I want to be able to walk down the street with you while holding your hand, but I can't." A piercing silence followed his confessions. "And I don't think I ever will."

"Are you breaking up with me?" Rachel questioned. He wanted to laugh because _how_ could he break up with someone he wasn't truly with.

"I can't," he cried out with frustration, "because as much as it's killing me to have you like this? At least even though I know you go home to his arms and a life where you belong to him I have these small moments. They're all I've got."

She hungrily attached her lips to his and all was forgiven in that moment. He didn't have time to feel pain; her kisses and touches were the only things that could heal his wounds. She treaded her fingers lightly through his hair before pushing him down on the couch. The kisses lessened in intensity; she instead ended the series of kisses with a soft peck before pressing a solitary kiss to his neck and then over his chest, where his heart lay beneath.

"I love you, Sam. You have to know that I do. Please, I couldn't bear the thought of living a life without you in it." He sighed. They had been friends for longer than they had been having a secret affair and he knew it would be impossible to lead a life without Rachel Berry, no, Rachel St. James in it.

"And what if I couldn't handle being with you while Jesse was in the picture?" The sharp intake of breath from Rachel let him know all he needed to know. As much as she loved him, she wasn't leaving Jesse-that much was clear.

"I can't leave him now," she explained. "He just got the lead in an upcoming musical. The previews start in July. He has the entire theatre community watching him." Sam nodded. His phone chirped from the spot it was in beside Rachel. The brunette reached for the item blindly before reading over whatever it was he received. He ignored the pained expression on her face before handing the phone over.

**Lopezzz: **It's bouts time we got you laid, Evans! You been single too longz! Ill come to your apt. at 6.  
1:34

"You're going out with Santana tonight?" Rachel whispered while looking at the floor. Sam nodded but realized she kind of couldn't see him.

"Yeah, we haven't hung out in a while. I miss my best friend." He heard barely audible sniffles. "What's wrong?" He questioned before wrapping his arms around the brunette.

"I thought I was your best friend." He couldn't help it. He really he couldn't. But the laughter that escaped him made the brunette seethe. The tips of her ears grew red. "Oh okay, excuse me for thinking that the guy I give myself to and am in love with is my best friend. Clearly that isn't how it works."

"Baby," Sam cooed before pressing a soft kiss to the spot beneath her ear, "you are more than my best friend." She turned to face him. "You're my **best friend,**" he pressed a kiss to her cheek, "my lover," he pressed another kiss to her nose, "and the girl I happen to want to spend forever with." He pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of her lips before pulling away with a goofy grin. He was happy to find that Rachel was wearing a grin that matched his.

"You will, you know," Rachel stated before curling into his side.

"Will what?" He questioned in confusion.

"Get to spend forever with me." She pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. He tightened his hold on her and smiled. It was the small moments that made all the shit they had to go through worthwhile. "Are you really going to let Santana hook you up with a girl?" Sam fought the urge to laugh knowing it would give her the wrong idea-again.

"I already have a girl, and she's better than anybody Santana might think is game to handle Sam Evans!" Rachel smiled at the excitement in his voice. "When is your break over?" Rachel stiffened in his arms.

"I might have lied. I feigned an illness so that I could take the rest of the day off," she explained.

"Naughty girl," Sam cooed before bursting out into laughter. "I can't pull off creepy old pervert, huh?" Rachel arched an eyebrow.

"Sam, you may not be a creepy old man, but you are a pervert." He flushed before shrugging his shoulders.

"I blame you," he explained. "Does he know you aren't working?" He tried avoiding Jesse's name as often as he could. He knew it was stupid to try to imagine Jesse not being in the picture, especially since he was the one helping Rachel be a cheat.

"No, I wanted to spend more time with you. I told you that this morning before you stormed out on me." Sam sighed."I can go if you want…" He knew it was a trap. That girl was a wizard of tricking him, but he was finally wising up to the ways of Rachel Berry.

"Do you remember the day we met?" Rachel giggled with glee before turning to look at Sam intently, the memory replaying itself in both of their minds.

_He sighed before wiping the counter off with a tattered cloth. Business had been slow that day; it always was when he worked. It wasn't fun being a college freshman having to work hours that should be spent on partying or less important things like studying._

"_How can I help you?" He recited once the door opened and dinged, signaling a customer._

"_You can't," a melodic voice replied. His ears perked at the sound as he raised his head from the counter to see a petite brunette girl rummaging through the sheet music on aisle three._

"_You sure about that, Miss?" Sam questioned politely all the while being enamored by the girl. She had an attitude, that much was obvious, but she was pretty in his eyes._

"_I'm positive," she replied. He nodded to himself before continuing to wipe down the counter. Several minutes later he heard footsteps nearing him. A small cough was emitted from before him. He looked up with an arched eyebrow to look at the girl._

"_Yes?"_

"_I'm afraid I do need your help. You see, the book I want to look at is on the top shelf and I'm unable to reach it." Sam nodded before wiping his hands off on his blue jeans and walked over to where the brunette had previously been standing. "That one," Rachel pointed._

_Sam grabbed the book of sheet music with ease before handing it to the girl and returning to his original spot behind the counter. "You look familiar-do I know you?"_

"_Is that a pick-up line?" Sam smirked. "'Cause I'll gladly play along." The brunette scoffed but he could see the faint blush gracing her cheeks._

"_I'm being serious," she exclaimed while stomping her foot. He laughed before truly studying her features. Soft chocolate eyes to match long brown locks, a dazzling smile to go along with the package._

"_You do look kinda familiar. Do you go to Pete's down on 57th?" Rachel's face scrunched up in thought. He thought it was kind of adorable, but 18-almost 19- year old dudes didn't think girls were adorable. They were either smokin' or not._

"_No, I've never been." He hummed in thought._

"_Our band plays there. I thought you might have gone. Where do you go to school?" Rachel placed the book on the counter before brushing a lone curl away from her face._

"_Tisch, you?"_

"_Oh, uh, I go to Essex-in Jersey." Rachel shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe you just look like someone I know," he finished lamely. "I'm about to get off work, do you maybe want to go get something to eat?" He knew he was going to be shot down, but it didn't hurt to try._

"_I can't. I have somewhere to be." Yep, he felt like a loser. "But maybe I will go watch your band play sometime," she questioned with a grin._

"_Yeah, that'd be awesome. Every Saturday night, usually. Around nine. You should totally come. It'd be fun." The brunette handed him the book. "Oh, no, it's on me."_

"_Are you sure?" She asked with a glint in her eyes he couldn't read._

"_Positive." She smiled before grabbing the book and skipping out of the store._

_It was only until after she had left that he realized he didn't know her name._

"You were kind of mean," Sam whispered once the flashback had passed. "You came to every show our band had though." Rachel nodded into his chest. Somehow during the random memory they had gone from sitting to lying down. Her head was resting on his shirtless chest while his strong arms were wrapped protectively around her.

"You intrigued me. And then you were just really nice eye-candy at those shows. A man with a guitar was my weakness back then," she sighed dreamily. Sam chuckled, the laughter sending vibrations through the brunette.

"Rach," he whispered while running his hands over her back soothingly.

"Hmm?"

"Why did you pick him?" Sam questioned. He and Rachel had never talked about her feelings for Jesse aside from the diva reassuring the blond that her feelings were only for him. Sam couldn't say that he truly believed her; Jesse was her husband after all-she was bound to feel something for him. "Why wasn't I good enough?"

"Sam," Rachel pulled away so that she could look into his eyes. "You act as though you were an option. You not once showed any interest in me. Why would I have thrown myself at you when I had a guy who showed affection for me?" Sam sighed.

He and Rachel had been friends for almost four years, he guessed. He had had feelings of the love variety for probably three of those years. She had been married to Jesse for two of those. It killed him that he had been there first. He had been in Rachel's life before Jesse St. James and had he shown the girl how he truly felt he could probably had been the one married to Rachel.

Then again, Rachel truly had been in love with Jesse, he thought. He knew he was being a great friend by watching her fall in love with someone else-because when the person you loved happened to love someone else it was common sense to let them go, even if it hurt like hell.

He had never tried to make her fall for him after things had become serious with Jesse. He had been everything a platonic friend would be. He listened to her talk about him for hours on end all while his heart felt like it was being stomped on. He ate ice cream with her and watched Funny Girl when she and Jesse would get into fights.

He was there when Rachel got her first off-off Broadway part. He was there when she got her first off-Broadway role. He was even there when she went to an open-call for her first Broadway show. He was the first person Rachel called when she got engaged after Jesse landed his first part on an off-Broadway show.

He remembered the first night he and Rachel kissed. He had finally had a girlfriend-the first one he had since being friends with Rachel, actually. He spent more and more time away from Rachel, certain that it was what he needed to do to make Rachel happy and to finally help him get over the brunette.

How wrong he was.

She and Jesse had been married a year at the time. The curly haired prick was out of town visiting his family, and Rachel had called Sam to keep her company. He declined, having already made plans with Santana Lopez. Rachel began to cry-Sam caved and took a taxi to her apartment immediately.

He often wondered what life would be like for him if that night had turned out another way, if he had simply pushed her away. He questioned whether or not he regretted it.

He didn't regret it at all.

"_Rach, what's wrong?" Sam questioned while looking around the extravagant apartment. He always felt completely out of place at her and Jesse's place. "Why are you so upset? Did you and Jesse have a fight?" Upon mentioning Jesse's name, Rachel began to wail._

"_Sam, I don't know how it happened or when," she exclaimed in between broken sobs. Sam instantly wrapped his arms around her and let the pint-size girl cry into his chest._

"_Shh," he cooed before pulling away long enough to wipe the tears away from her cheeks. "What's wrong?"_

"_You and Santana," she shouted. He pulled away in confusion, unsure of what happened. He had thought the brunette and the Latina had gotten along just fine._

"_If you don't like Santana then I can break up with her, I guess," he shrugged his shoulders. It wasn't like things were serious with the girl; they liked to go out and drink together. It was more like a weird friendship than a relationship._

"_That's not it," Rachel shouted. "You're always with her. At first I didn't know why it upset me so that you were never around me anymore. I was constantly complaining to Jesse about how much you not being around made me mad. Then I started complaining about Santana! A girl I hardly know, Sam!" Sam nodded, unsure of what was happening. "Jesse joked around talking about how it sounded like I was jealous."_

"_Rach, people can be jealous of people taking their friends away, you know." Rachel shook her head._

"_That's not the kind of jealous I am, Sam," she whispered, voice taking on a husky quality. He rubbed his sweaty palms over the denim of his jeans and swallowed thickly. Instantly the brunette was invading his personal space and greedily smothered his lips with hers._

_Not once did he push her away._

A simple kiss had turned into a yearlong affair.

It had been the greatest and worst year of his life, a roller coaster ride that often made him sick but was too much fun to get off.

* * *

Three more hours had passed with the two of them simply enjoying each other's company. Sam had brought his old guitar out and attempted to serenade the girl while Rachel internally swooned at the way the guy treated her. They watched a movie and cuddled underneath a blanket for the duration of the film like high school kids on a date.

Rachel's phone rang at 5:15. He knew who was calling her. He knew it before the color from Rachel's face drained. "Hello," Rachel calmly answered. "You won't be home tonight?" She asked in disbelief. Sam rolled his eyes at the brunette's dramatics. "No, I don't want to go with you to Atlantic City. Whatever, bye."

"Ah, I didn't know that hardworking Broadway actor's rehearsed in Atlantic City," Sam joked, hoping to ease the mood.

"They don't," Rachel grumbled. "Since he won't be home though," she purred," and you still aren't wearing clothes I propose that we do something about this." Sam gulped before looking at his watch.

"Bad idea, Rach. Santana is going to be over here in like…less than an hour." The brunette's hand was playing with the elastic of his boxers. "Rach," he whined before swatting her hand away, "we can have a date after I hang out with Santana."

"I can't believe you're choosing to hang out with an ex-girlfriend over your current girlfriend," Rachel snapped before pulling her hand away. "Maybe you two can take care of this current situation," she shouted while gesturing to his lower anatomy. Sam groaned before throwing his head back in frustration.

"You know she's into chicks, not dicks." Rachel rolled her eyes before getting up. She pecked his lips before admiring the chiseled abs on his body.

"You just remember that. Then you and this," she squeezed the aforementioned body part," came come to my place for the night." Sam shivered lightly as he watched the brunette sashay to his door. In a flash he was off the couch and running over to Rachel. He pinned her to the door and kissed her soundly. He had, over the course of a year, completely memorized every detail about her body-starting with her soft lips. He pulled away and languidly nipped and bit at the line of her jaw and neck before returning to swollen lips. Slowly, he ran his tongue over her bottom lip. The brunette immediately granted him access.

He felt his body temperature rising as their tongues met, languidly at first before turning into a much more heated dance. He let go of Rachel's wrist to rest his hands on her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged at his hair. He pressed his body into hers and ignored the whimper that escaped from her lips upon feeling the reaction his body had because of her. She pulled away and began to trail her lips down his neck while scratching his abs lightly. "Oh God, no," he moaned before letting the girl continue. "We have to stop. Santana can't show up to find me taking care of myself in the bathroom because of you."

"And you thought you weren't a pervert how?" Rachel questioned in between pants. Sam laughed before pressing a lingering kiss to pouty lips.

"I'll see you later, Rach." She nodded before shuffling out the door. He looked at his watch and then down at his below the waistline problem. "Cold shower," he stated aloud before running to the bathroom.

Ten minutes later he was out and changed into a fresh t-shirt and a pair of jeans, ready for a night out. He headed over to the door after hearing the knock. "Ready to go?" He asked upon seeing the Latina.

"Nice hickies," Santana deadpanned. His smile fell as his hand instantly went to the base of his neck. Apparently Rachel had decided on payback. "Who've you been sexing?" Sam sighed before pulling the girl inside.

He had kept the affair with Rachel secret from everyone and it had been killing him. He kind of thought telling someone could help him feel better about things. And Santana was his best friend, right?

He nodded to himself; he was going to tell her.


End file.
